gaytheist

The sound is faint. Rain flecking the window gently. Like little rocks pecking off the crystalline surface of the glass. It is soothing in its quaint whisper, and for a moment I know where I am with a clarity that's absurdly confident. I'm at home. I'm in bed. The dog is at my feet, snoring quietly. It's a Saturday. No work for the weary tomorrow. Just the thought of it, and I can feel my own semi-conscious smile curl against the smooth folds of my pillow case. Pure bliss. I remain in this dazed state, not quite awake but not quite out, listening to the rain kissing the glass with with a tenderness that quickly turns to passion. The lightnin